The Sundragon's Poison
by Rurouni-agra
Summary: A mishap in potions class leads to Draco's emotional structure falling apart.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: All the character belong to JK Rowling blah blah blah.... the theory/idea of sundragon's poison is from a fanfic I read ages ago for Tamora Pierce's Protector of the Small series.  
  
NOTE: This is a Hermione/Draco story. Draco's just so cunningly (ah, Slytherin) romantic, and, well, Hermione's the only female character worth using other than Ginny, and Ginny and Draco are just wrong.  
  
"Today, class, we will be concocting a potion that temporarily remedies severe emotional changes, more commonly known as mood-swings. This potion is homeopathic, meaning that the main ingredient causes the ailment, but also remedies it."  
  
It was the last day of classes before spring break, and the 6th year Gryffindors and Slytherins were once again in Snape's dungeon. Ron and Harry sat in the back row, carefully looking as if they were interested or cared that Snape was speaking. Across the aisle from them sat Hermione and Neville, who was gradually turning greener and greener as Snape droned on about the potion they were about to concoct.  
  
"When the ingredients are mixed together, they are harmless to anyone who takes them whether the potion is needed or not. For those of you without the common sense to label your potions after they are made, then venture out to use them, this is good news." Snape stared pointedly at Neville, who had been toothless for the past week after trying to use a potion to heal a chipped tooth. "However, when the ingredients are separated, they are fairly dangerous. Shredded boomslang skin can cause skin irritation and discoloring. (Think polyjuice potion!) Toe Mold from gnomes cause toe mold on anyone. Be sure to avoid these things as I will not heal you and you will be made to wait until the end of class to go to the infirmary.  
  
"Most importantly, however, you must all be sure not to allow any sundragon venom to enter your body in any way, shape, or form. As this is the main ingredient, those with minimal intelligence and who have been listening to me will conclude that sundragon venom causes severe mood swings. If this is consumed or let into your bloodstream raw, death is inevitable without treatment. For homework I would like everyone to do a report on the effects of raw sundragon venom to be turned in Thursday after we return.  
  
"Now, if you would all collect the ingrediants from the stores in the closet, I am going to change our groups around. Potter, work with Mr. Longbottom. Weasley work with Ms. Parkinson. Granger, please join Mr. Malfoy up front. Madame Pomfrey has informed me that there is a shortage of this potion in the hospital wing, and seeing as you two are the most competent..." Snape's expression was pained as he paid the compliment to Hermione. Draco sat leisurely in his chair, his face a mixture of arrogance for being called competent, and anger for being paired with Hermione. And though none of the Gryffindors would admit it, Draco was indeed a fairly good potion maker. "Get to work."  
  
Hermione scowled as she took her things up to Draco's table, though her expression of hatred was nothing compared to that on Draco's face. "Don't mess up my potion, you filthy little mudblood. Shred this boomslang skin." Malfoy ordered, reaching into his bag and pulling out his cauldron and starting a fire beneath it. Hermione began to argue at his cocky and overbearing tone, but thought better of it. Snape would take house points away and the boomslang skin did need to be shredded.  
  
The pair worked in silence for a short time before Neville moved to the front of the classroom to collect his ingrediants. He gathered them into his arms and started walking carefully back to his seat. The bottle of Sundragon Venom was on top, wiggling precariously between the jars of Toe Mold and boomslang skin. Hermione glanced up as he passes, meaning to give him an encouraging smile, but at that moment she saw Draco extend his foot directly into Neville's path.  
  
Before she could give a warning, Neville's foot caught Draco's, and time seemed to slow down as he fell, the bottle of venom flying out of his arms. Neville hit the ground hard, and the bottle crashed onto Hermione and Draco's table. All of the tools and ingrediants on the table were splashed with the violently blue liquid.  
  
"Idiot boy!" Snape stalked up to Neville. Hermione was helping him up, and his face was bright red and he seemed close to tears. Hermione was forced to back away as Snape descended on Neville with condemning words. She knew better than to tell Snape that Draco had tripped Neville- it wouldn't make a difference.  
  
Hermione returned to her table to find a frowning Malfoy. His trick had worked, but simultaneously ruined their potions. "We'll have to start over and work fast if we want to finish this class period." Hermione said, holding her head high and starting to clean up the mess. Draco didn't say anything but began to do likewise.  
  
As the class once again quieted down, Draco took up his knife from the table and began slicing fresh boomslang skin quickly. Time was short, and the boomslang skin was the only thing that was left to put into the potion. Checking the clock, he realized that they barely had enough time to finish the potion if the boomslang skin was ready to be put in at the moment. He began to chop faster, not wanting to have to redo the potion with Hermione in his free time. In his haste, he nicked his finger with the knife. Without thinking he stuck his finger in his mouth, licking off the drip of blood that had risen on his skin. He finished slicing the skin and added it to the potion.  
  
Draci and Hermione had just finished bottling their potion, which was the same violent blue as the venom, when the bell rang. Potions was their last class of the day and spring holiday had officially started....  
  
Please note: "Tools" includes the knife that Malfoy cut himself with.  
  
TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!!!! IT GETS GOOD IN THE NEXT PART!


	2. The Plot Thickens

Insert another disclaimer here, just in case  
  
Harry and Hermione had both signed up to stay over spring holiday. Ron had been forced to go visit some terrible aunt of his (or so he said) that lived in Canterbury, but had promised to write every day. Hagrid had also left, and Hermione and Harry suspected it was to visit Madame Maxime in France. They did not know that Draco Malfoy had also signed up to remain at school. Neither of his cronies Crabbe and Goyle were staying, but his parents had taken a trip without him. Draco honestly did not want to pry into that trip.  
  
The situation was discovered the day that holiday started. Harry and Hermione had been to feed Fang that morning, and were strolling back up to the castle when they noticed a lone figure on the shore of the lake. Their path led them closer to it, and they realized that it was Draco. He was sitting on a rock, his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around him. Anyone who did not know Draco would think him a very likeable fellow had they first met him here. His face was peaceful and his shining blond hair fell into his eyes. Icy blue eyes reflected the sky and the lake, giving him an almost vampiric (for anyone who's read Anne Rice, think of Claudia) yet childish look. Despite her extreme loathing of him, the image of Draco bore into Hermione's heart and mind.  
  
She let reality slip away for a few seconds and fell into the picturesque world of her mind. The boy in front of her was not her enemy, here. He did not detest her just because of her parents. He was not cruel. He was not the son of a death eater. Yet he was not completely different. His eyes were still piercing and deep like a cavern of ice. His demeanor was still mysterious, sly and smooth like a snake. Hermione suddenly felt an unfamiliar pang in her heart. She could imagine herself loving someone like Draco. He was smart, clever, admittedly funny at time, flawed in an attractive way, very much good looking, and in the tiny bit of Hermione that was shallow- very, very rich.  
  
As much as Hermione wanted to remain in her reverie, she returned to reality. She surprised to find that the two realms were shockingly similar. Draco had not moved, despite Hermione and Harry's advance. His gaze was fixed on the water, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. Harry's gaze locked with Hermione's- what was up with Draco?  
  
They were only feet away now. Neither friend knew what to do- continue along the path or stop and say something. They needn't decide, because at that moment Draco looked up, his eyes boring into them, his expression serious. Both Harry and Hermione knew something was wrong now. If Draco was alright, he'd have at least sneered by now, or made some snide remark.  
  
Draco stared at Hermione and Harry for a few moments, his expression like stone. When he finally opened his mouth to say something, it was as if someone had cracked a solid rock. "Everything's about to change, isn't it? The Dark Lord... he's returned. Chaos will rip our world to pieces."  
  
Harry and Hermione gaped at him, their mouths slightly open. Of all things they had expected him to say, this was near the bottom of the list.  
  
Draco returned his gaze to the lake and his brow furrowed even deeper. "All my life I was proud to have a Death Eater as a father. I can admit this only to you two because you already know. I thought it meant that I had power- no matter what happens with the Dark Lord, I am safe. But I'm not. No one is. The witches and wizards that are against the Dark Lord will wreak havoc on my family. My father will kill innocent people. The second war will begin, and I will be caught in the middle. I'll be innocent- I have never helped the Death Eaters. But they will be out to get me because of my father. My world will be worse than the Mudbloods, worse than the Muggles. I'll be cast adrift between sides. My future is uncertain. I am not proud of my father anymore."  
  
Harry and Hermione could hardly believe what they were hearing. They glanced at each other, neither daring to say a word. Something was very, very wrong. Draco would never say this to anyone, not his friends, and definitely not to Harry and Hermione.  
  
Suddenly, Draco's head snapped back towards them. His calm, stony expression was now something panicked and anguished. He slid back off the rock, away from them, his hands trembling. He did not back away any father, but looked at them with a mixture of horror and pleading. "S-something's wrong." He stammered, his expression of panic growing. "Help m-me!"  
  
Harry stepped forward, putting a hand out to keep Hermione back. If something was wrong with Draco, he didn't want Hermione to have to deal with it. "We'll take you to the hospital wing, Malfoy. Madame Pomfrey will fix you up." He put a hand out. Despite his loathing of Malfoy, his heart took the better of him. Draco was scared, confused, and sick.  
  
"NO!" Draco yelled, taking a step back. "I can't be seen like this. I can't be caught. It's wrong, all wrong. Help me!"  
  
"Caught doing what, Malfoy? We know you're father's a death eater, you know that. No harm can come from telling us-"  
  
"N-not that. I made a mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake. It's my fault can't you see? My mistake cannot be known! I DON'T MAKE MISTAKES! I can't fail-"  
  
Hermione spoke now, her voice gentle and calm. Harry knew that tone- she used it whenever the world was getting the better of him. She had used it while Rita Skeeter was after him, when the whole school thought he was the heir of Slytherin- it was a calming, soothing voice. "What was your mistake, Malfoy? Maybe we can fix it..."  
  
Malfoy's eyes lifted to Hermione's, his lips trembling. He held out his hand, his forefinger extended. On it was a tiny cut. "What have I done?" he asked, his voice quiet and trembling. "I've made a mistake..." At this point he reduced to tears. He fell to his knees, clutching his stomach and rocking back and forth. He sobbed uncontrollably, tears pouring down his cheeks. Red lines appeared in his teardrop paths.  
  
Harry and Hermione's hearts were opened now. Both of them knew that whatever was wrong with him was putting him through mortal anguish. No human being should be in so much pain- not even Draco Malfoy.  
  
Harry moved to help him off the ground, moving Draco's arm around his shoulder. "C'mon, Malfoy, we'll take you to the Hospital Wing..."  
  
Malfoy regained his strength suddenly, and a look of malice took over his face. "YOU CANNOT TAKE ME THERE! YOU CANNOT LET ME BE SEEN LIKE THIS! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT IT'S LIKE. I HAVE TO BE PERFECT. I DO NOT MAKE MISTAKES. I WON'T LET YOU RUIN ME!" He silenced himself, clenching his fists and shaking with anger. Harry took a step away, afraid that Draco would through a fist at him. After a few minutes Draco's quivering stopped, though his fists remained clenched. His expression went from anger to something that Hermione could not identify. He was upset, but not angry. He was almost fearful, but it a rebellious way. "My father..." he said, rubbing his shoulder then shaking his head.  
  
"Harry, I think I know what's happened to him." Hermione said, coming over to his shoulder. "That cut can't be more than a day old, and his symptoms match those of something who's been exposed to raw Sundragon Venom. I've already done the report- I know. When Neville tripped, the venom splashed onto the table. It was on Malfoy's knife. He must have cut himself and let the venom into his bloodstream. That's what's wrong with him."  
  
Harry stared at her, half of his mind incredulous at the fact that she had already done the report, the other half attempting to remember what Snape had said in class the day before. All he could remember was that it caused severe mood-swings and that definitely fit Malfoy's state.  
  
"Then he has to be treated. We have to take him to the Hospital Wing." Harry said, looking at Draco apprehensively. He didn't really want to be hit by Malfoy in his state of rage.  
  
"No, I don't think we should. He's volatile. If we try to take him there he might pull his wand and do who knows what to us." Hermione's lips were pursed, and Harry could practically see her brain working.  
  
"Can we sedate him and take him there?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. When he's revived there'll be an emotional build up in him and it could cause permanent brain damage."  
  
The situation was looking bleaker and bleaker. "Should one of us go find a teacher? No, he'd pull the wand before thinking..."  
  
Draco stumbled over to them and fell to his knees. "Don't tell anyone. I beg of you, please don't tell anyone. Granger's smart, she can help me, I know she can. Just don't tell any of the teachers- my father cannot know."  
  
Hermione, slightly taken aback at Draco's groveling, couldn't find something to say. Harry, though shocked as well, had an idea. "We can take him to Hagrid's hut, at least for now. We can decide what to do there. No one will know."  
  
Hermione nodded in agreement. It was hard to disobey Draco's wishes while he kneeled at her feet. His tear stained face was in agony and his eyes were pleading in such a way that saying 'no' would be impossible. She helped him to his feet and began retracing their steps back to Hagrid's cabin.  
  
"Thank you..." Draco whispered under his breath. "Thank you..."  
  
Half way to the cabin Draco regained his composer slightly and walked by himself. Soon it became his normal, arrogant swagger. "I knew you two would help me," he said, acting as though he had never begged at their feet. His manner was almost jaunty, and Hermione could have sworn his tone was friendly.  
  
They reached the cabin and went inside. Fang growled at Draco when he entered. "Be kind, Pooch," Malfoy said cheerily, "ol' Draco's keeping you company!"  
  
Hermione suppressed a giggle at Draco's friendliness. The emotion looked odd on his features, which admittedly looked extremely good when being sullen and arrogant.  
  
While Draco was petting Fang (who was on his back and thumping his tail happily on the floor), Hermione and Harry came up with a plan. They decided that Draco should never be left alone. Harry would go back to the castle and go to the kitchens. He'd ask Winky the house elf (Dobby would not want to help Draco) to send food for Draco and Hermione, who would be staying behind. He'd also go to the library and check out as many books as he could that would help with Draco's condition and bring them back to Hagrid's cabin.  
  
_Lucky Snape assigned that paper_, Harry thought, _I won't need an excuse as to having all those books._  
  
MORE SOON, I PROMISE! This post was getting a little long anyway...  
  
Any more comments are appreciated!


	3. The Plot Thicken Thicker

  
  
After watching Harry walk up the path back to the castle, Hermione turned apprehensively towards Draco. He was sitting on Hagrid's bed, a dreamy expression on his face. He looked harmless at the moment, but Hermione made sure she could easily reach her wand, just in case. She took a seat on the sofa, watching Draco out of the corner of her eye. If Draco hadn't been completely dazed where he sat, it would have been an extremely awkward moment.  
  
"You know," Draco said quietly, his voice light, "I really, really like it here at Hogwarts."  
  
Hermione didn't respond immediately. She decided that it wouldn't hurt to answer. Besides, she was curious as to what having a real conversation with Draco would be like. "I like it here, too," she said, "it's more like my home than my house."  
  
Draco nodded in agreement. "I can't imagine ever leaving. When we met with the heads of our houses to talk about careers, the only thing I could think about being was a teacher at Hogwarts, maybe even Headmaster."  
  
Hermione struggled to hide the expression of surprise that spasmed over her face. "Didn't you want to go to Durmstrang before?"  
  
Draco's face clouded slightly. "My father wanted me to. It was politics that made him consider the change. I never wanted to go. I love Hogwarts. Like you said- it's more like home then, well, home. I would really like to be a teacher here..."  
  
"Nothing's stopping you," Hermione said, turning to face him and tucking one leg under her.  
  
"My father will," Malfoy said, looking a little despaired. "He'll want me to be a professional slacker, a con-artist, a politician, and..." he looked at Hermione then looked away. "He'd love for me to be a Death Eater."  
  
"I see..." Hermione pursed her lips. An expression of anger was coming over Draco's face, so she tried to keep the subject positive. "What would you teach here?" she asked.  
  
"I'm really good at potions," Malfoy said, "but Defense Against the Dark Arts... well; as you can guess I have a bit of experience with the Dark Arts, and therefore can defend myself. And if I become Head Master, some things are going to change around here."  
  
"What would change?" Hermione was genuinely interested now. Who would have ever thought that Draco Malfoy wanted to be a teacher?  
  
"The Slytherins are hated, and that's not good. I'm not going to force people to like them, but I'm going to try and find ways to fix that. We're not bad people... ok, well most of us aren't. We've just got a bad reputation, and we do what we're expected to do. Just like Hufflepuffs are inspired to be nice to everyone, Ravenclaws to be extremely intelligent, and Gryffindors to be brave."  
  
Hermione nodded. He did have a point.  
  
"What do you want to do with yourself? You may be a mudblood, but not even I can deny that you're smarter than any Ravenclaw and as skilled as, well, myself in the use of spells and potions."  
  
Hermione felt her face blush slightly. That was as good a compliment as any. "I don't really know, yet. I've thought of becoming a teacher as well. Joining the ministry would be a waste of my talents I think, unless I join for the Mistreatment of Magical Creatures Board. And there's always, well, becoming an Auror..."  
  
"You'd make a good Auror." Draco stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "You help Potter with his little bouts with the Dark Lord. Sometimes I think I'd like to be an Auror..."  
  
Though it seemed impossible after this conversation, Hermione was even more surprised now. "But your father..."  
  
"My father," Draco spat, "my father does nothing for a living and lives off of my family's fortune. He is nothing. All he does is threaten people to get his way." Draco sat up and put his back against the wall, crossing his arms moodily across his chest. "I am expected to follow what my father says, to support everything he does, agree with him One Hundred Percent. But I don't. He murders innocent people and follows the man who is going to tear our world apart. He's wrong." Draco pulled his knees to his chest and rested his forehead against them. "My parents have me ruined before I even get a chance. That's why I'm so mean to you. I grew up thinking that your ancestry was everything. My pure-blood parents condemn me as your Muggle parents condemn you."  
  
Hermione couldn't think of something to say to that. This must be the true Draco Malfoy. This honest, human, lost soul that was trapped in a web of politics the day he was born. Now, there was nothing he could do to change it. Especially now- It would be dangerous for him to rebel against his father just as the Dark Lord regained strength. He had to hold his facade for his own safety and for his father's reputation.  
  
"Why do you act the way you do to protect your father's reputation?"  
  
"I want him to be proud of me. He expects nothing but obedience and affection. I do my best for him. But sometimes I fail..." He reached up and rubbed his shoulder, the same he had at the lake. Hermione followed the movement, but before she could ask anything Draco jumped up and started jumping on the bed.  
  
"This is fun!" he said while rising and falling in the air. Hermione, though aware of his condition, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at him. "Don't look at me like that!" He threw a pillow at her. "You need to lighten up and have some fun!"  
  
"I think I'll pass Mal-"  
  
"Awww, come on!"  
  
"I really shouldn't-"  
  
"Pleeeease?"  
  
"I'm here to take care of you, not play with you-"  
  
"Chicken! You know I can jump higher than you! You're scared!"  
  
"I didn't say that." Hermione couldn't help but smile and was beginning to chuckle.  
  
"C'mon, you sissy!"  
  
"Am not."  
  
"Are too!"  
  
"Am not."  
  
"Prove it!"  
  
"No."  
  
Draco plopped down onto the bed and pouted. "You stink," he said earnestly, crossing his arms huffily.  
  
"I try," replied Hermione absentmindedly as a knock came from the door. She peered carefully out the window to see a tiny elf in a simple blue frock that matched her eyes. Opening the door, she let Winky the house elf in, who was carrying a large tray full of food.  
  
"Harry Potter says that a student is sick, but he cannot go to the hospital wing! 'He is in Hagrid's cabin and he need some food' he says, so Winky brings him food! Winky brings good food for sick students, Hermione Granger, she brings soup and crackers and other good foods!" Winky said while placing the tray on the table. Then she caught sight of Draco sitting on the bed, watching her with interest. "Oh, Hermione Granger! Harry Potter did not tells me and Dobby that Winky was taking care of Dobby's old master!"  
  
"Malfoy's sick, Winky, and we don't want anyone to know. Will you keep it a secret? Will Dobby?" Hermione looked into Winky's huge, electric blue, lamp-like eyes.  
  
Winky nodded. "We is never betrayed Harry Potter or his friends! We is still loyal house elves!"  
  
"Thank you Winky- would you like to have something to eat before returning to the castle?" Hermione didn't like using Winky's sworn loyalty to manipulate her, but the need for secrecy was more important. Despite that fact, Hermione still wanted to treat Winky as an equal.  
  
"Oh no, Hermione Granger, I shouldn't! I is supposed to be back in the kitchens- someone might notice I'm gone and ask questions!" Winky bowed and moved towards the door. "You can trust Winky!" And so she left.  
  
Hermione sighed and moved to the table. She wished Winky had stayed for some food. "You ought to eat, Malfoy, you'll most likely need the energy."  
  
Draco approached the table and sat down in front of his bowl of soup. There was a second bowl for Hermione set across from him, who had missed lunch. "You should call me Draco," he said, eating a spoonful of soup, "since you're taking care of me and all."  
  
"I suppose..." Hermione said, looking down at her food. It was so awkward, sitting in Hagrid's cabin with Draco Malfoy, eating soup and talking about what they want to do with their lives.  
  
They ate in silence, Draco eating monstrously.  
  
When they finished, Hermione did the dishes while Draco looked out the window. His arm was resting on the window frame, and his head rested on his arm. He was staring moodily at the Forbidden Forest, which looked calm and peaceful in the afternoon light. He seemed contentedly lost in thought, and Hermione was happy to do likewise. She curled up on the sofa and began to mull over all that she had just heard.  
  
Hermione thought about this new, honest Draco that she had been introduced to. He was a decent human being, for starters. He had a goal in life, and something holding him back from it. He hated his father and saw the world the same as any non-Death Eater did. He didn't want to follow his father's footsteps. He knew that everything that Voldemort did and will do is wrong. That boy in Hermione's daydreams was coming alive.  
  
She didn't know how long she and Draco were lost in thought, but the next thing she knew, Harry was walking through the door, his schoolbag loaded with books. Draco mumbled a salutation to Harry as he entered, then resumed his brooding at the window. Harry took a seat next to Hermione on the couch and watched the blonde boy stare unblinkingly outside.  
  
"How was he? He didn't threaten you, did he? If he threatens either of us we should-"  
  
Hermione shushed him before he could finish his sentence. "He was fine. He was... friendly. And likeable at that. It's almost like we're in an alternate reality. It's a little scary."  
  
"Likeable? _Him?_" Harry was slightly incredulous.  
  
"He was extremely likeable, actually. We talked. He told me what he wants to do with his life, and that he doesn't like his father's involvement with Voldemort. It's fascinating."  
  
"Whatever," Harry said, unbelieving. "But I grabbed these books for us to look through. Let's get started- the sooner he's remedied the better."  
  
Hermione nodded and picked up One Hundred Potion-Making Mishaps and What to do About Them. Harry also had a book in his lap and was boring over the table of contents. The first three books contained only references to the effects of Sundragon Venom, but nothing useful. The fourth book said that the same potion that they had made in potions class would cure him. The fifth book was also useless, but the sixth book came in the most useful.  
  
According to How to Remedy Mistakes Made with Remedies, Sundragon venom could be counteracted by the Sundragon antidote. However, the fact that it was homeopathic meant that it would have to get worse before it got better. When someone who was not poisoned with Sundragon Venom took the potion, they would have the mood-swings for about an hour. However, someone with the venom in their system could take days. The longer the venom had been affecting the person, the longer it would take the antidote to work.  
  
"How long has he had it in him?" Harry asked.  
  
"Well, he had to have cut himself after Neville fell, which puts it at about this time yesterday. 24 hours. How long will it take for the antidote to work?"  
  
Harry looked at the book and groaned. "Four days. Four whole days of nursing this bloody twit. And on my vacation, too!"  
  
"Well, there's not much else we can do. We'll trade off places watching him. The next few days will be rough, because he's going to get worse. But after that he should get better and better until he's normal again."  
  
"What about at night? I'll have to spend every night with him here!" Harry was looking more and more frustrated by the second.  
  
"Well you can't expect _me_ to," Hermione said, and Harry sighed. "Don't be some glum, Harry, it'll be fun. We can spend all day out by the lake. We can do our homework here. We'd be sitting around doing nothing if not doing this."  
  
"I happen to value my sitting around doing nothing time, thanks," Harry said sulkily, although he knew she was right. 


	4. Chapter 4

  
  
Hermione opened the door to Hagrid's cabin to find Draco and Harry in a heated match of Wizard Chess. In her hand she held the bottle of violent blue elixir that would heal Draco.  
  
"Knight to F7, check, and mate!" Draco announced, jumping up and beginning to dance around the room. Hermione suppressed a laugh while Harry stared in a mixture of horror and shock. Draco was humming victory music to himself as he shook his hips and shuffled his feet.  
  
"Days that I wish I had a camera..." Harry muttered. Hermione grinned. "The sooner we get him that potion, the better."  
  
"Right," Hermione said, pouring the right amount of liquid into a cup and mixing hot tea into it and handing it to Draco.  
  
"Mmm that's good... more please!" he said after draining the cup.  
  
"It's getting late- Harry will get you another cup. I'll see you in the morning, Draco. 'Night Harry- send an owl if you need anything."  
  
"_Draco?_" he repeated incredelously, but Hermione was already out the door.  
  
Hermione woke up early the next morning and ate breakfast in the Great Hall before walking down to Hagrid's cabin. She was very excited about being with Draco. If yesterday was only day one, the next two days would be even more revealing, and Hermione liked what was being revealed very much.  
  
But as she approached the cabin, she heard yelling. She recognized Draco's voice and hurried inside. Winky was on her knees cleaning up a cup of spilled juice. Draco was standing above her, yelling insults while Winky's small frame trembled.  
  
"Clumsy, stupid, incompetent house elf! No wonder you were released! No one would ever want-"  
  
"Draco!" Hermione couldn't help but shout in anger. She stooped and put a hand on Winky's shoulder, who was looking very distressed and could barely pick up the pieces of shattered glass on the floor. Draco had stopped yelling when Hermione had entered, but still stood fuming above them. Hermione helped Winky clean up the rest of the mess and helped clean the house elf's dress.  
  
Harry had been standing near the door, looking flustered, confused, and tired. Hermione sighed as she threw the last few pieces of glass into the rubbish bin. She knelt to Winky's level and looked her in the eye. "Draco's sick, Winky, he's not right. It was an accident. You're a very good house elf." She turned to Harry and gave him an encouraging smile. "Why don't you walk Winky back to the kitchens before going to bed, Harry?" He nodded and led Winky out the door.  
  
As soon as the door shut, Hermione reeled on Draco. "How DARE you treat her like that! She's doing you a favor, bringing your food down here for you. She's keeping your secret and you're treating her like the scum of the earth! If you want me to take care of you and help you get back to health, you'll apologize when she brings lunch and you'll treat her respectfully."  
  
Draco sneered. "She dropped that glass. House elves should never break the possessions of their owners."  
  
"It was an accident!" Hermione yelled. "Accidents happen!"  
  
"If they do, a house elf's master should never know!"  
  
"How dare you treat her as if she's some sort of slave!"  
  
"You're the freak that treats her like an equal."  
  
"She IS an equal!"  
  
"Only you would say so you disgusting, fowl, loathsome mudblood. Go back to where you belong- with the muggles."  
  
Hermione bit her lip. The words he'd said hurt her more than they usually did. Maybe it was because she'd spent half the night thinking about the boy from her daydream that was now living it Hagrid's cabin. Maybe it was because of the dream she had had that night where he held her close...  
  
Suddenly that dream became real. Draco had moved across the room and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Hermione could smell him, a warm, salty fragrance laced with a scent that could only be described as Draco. His soft hair brushed her face. He let go and took a step back.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, looking and sounding honestly sincere.  
  
"It's... uh... its ok." Hermione was so shocked that she couldn't think of anything else to say.  
  
"Smashing! Are you up for a game of Wizard Chess?" Hermione took a deep breath. It was going to be a long day.... 


	5. The Plot is so Thick You Can Cut it With...

Harry returned to Hagrid's Cabin around lunchtime after having taken a nap and a nice, long shower. He didn't want to return to Malfoy, but at the same time he didn't want to leave Hermione there by herself.  
  
When he arrived, Draco was stretched out on the couch looking incredibly weary, his eyes glazed over with exhaustion. Hermione was sitting on the bed with a book in her lap and waved when Harry entered.  
  
"He just... crashed. Did you two sleep at all last night?" Hermione asked.  
  
"He wouldn't settle until 2am. It was hell. He kept babbling about Quidditch."  
  
"Now you know how I feel when you and Ron get started." Hermione said, grinning when Harry's mouth closed and gave her the 'you're right' look. Just then a muffled snore came from the sofa. Draco had finally drifted off to sleep.  
  
Hermione did not tell Harry about what had happened that morning. It just seemed too unnatural for words. That and she might have to admit that she enjoyed the feeling of being hugged like that, as if she matter. She and Ron had fought so many times before, but whenever they made up he never hugged her like that. And he had smelled so good... his arms had felt so strong.  
  
When Draco woke up, he was nearly normal, minus the bitter hatred. He and Harry sat on the couch and talked away the good part of an hour about what they liked in a girl. Harry described Cho Chang rather well, but Draco's description was once again shocking, as everything else had been for the past 48 hours.  
  
"Brown curly hair," he said, gazing past Harry's shoulder and at nothing, "brown eyes. Really smart, but really kind, too, not like McGonagall. Adventurous- things would be dull if she weren't."  
  
Harry's eyes flicked between Hermione, who was trying not to gape, and Draco, who was still looking dreamily at the wall. "Err, good choice, Malfoy." Hermione noticed that Draco had not asked Harry to call him by his first name.  
  
"Good response, Harry," Hermione said cheerfully, though she could feel her cheeks burning.  
  
Draco erupted into fits of giggles then. He clutched his stomach and laughed heartily, his eyes squeezed shut. "You said... you said good response..." he wheezed and laughed harder, "good response... because if he hadn't... hahaha.... he would have dissed you... he said the right thing." He erupted into peels of uncontrollable laughter. Draco slipped off his chair, rolling on the floor. Now he was laughing so hard no sound came out. Harry and Hermione couldn't help but start laughing as well.  
  
Suddenly, Draco choked and gagged and curled up into a ball. The tears pouring down his face were no longer tears of laughter. He was talking to himself, muttering under his breath. Hermione stood and moved closer, Harry sat forward in his seat.  
  
Hermione knelt by Draco's head and pushed the hair that had fall in his face away. "Draco? Draco, what's wrong?" she said gently but urgently. Harry, though engrossed by Draco's agony, was distracted by Hermione's oddly soft and caring voice. He had never heard that tone before, and he had known Hermione for six years.  
  
"It hurt... it hurt so bad..." Draco was saying, more clearly now. "It was an accident. I didn't mean it to go so wrong. I just wanted him to be proud of me..."  
  
"Who? What happened?" Hermione's brow was knit together and she kept stroke Draco's hair softly, trying to calm him down.  
  
"My... my father... I tried so hard to make him proud, so hard. But I failed. I always fail... I'm never good enough for him. It hurt so bad..."  
  
Hermione's brain was working furiously. She wanted dearly to wrap her arms around him and comfort him, but with Harry there it would be awkward for both of them. She continued stroking his hair. In the meantime, something else in her mind clicked. "What did he do, Draco? Did he hurt you?"  
  
Draco nodded and sat up slowly. Hermione looked at Harry, both of them speechless. In the meantime, Malfoy rubbed his shoulder, now looking at the floor numbly.  
  
"What now?" Harry mouthed at Hermione.  
  
"I don't know!" she mouthed back, looking tenderly at Draco. She knew she couldn't hold him, but she still wanted to make him feel better. She moved over next to him and put a hand on his back. She glanced at Harry, who did likewise, though much more reluctantly. They sat in silence, and Hermione couldn't help but notice the bond that was forming between them, between Draco and herself in particular. Even Harry, though he looked awkward occasionally, couldn't help but like this Draco. And now they both knew one of his darkest secrets. If it was awkward now, Hermione could only imagine what it would be like when Draco was back to normal.  
  
Draco's mood finally changed from silent brooding to hyperactiveness (is that a word?). "Let's go flying, Harry! Hermione can throw things into the air for us to catch- it'll be like Quidditch practice!"  
  
Harry grinned at Hermione. "I can't say no to that..."  
  
"Fine, but I'll inform you that my aim is awful," Hermione said.  
  
After summoning Draco and Harry's brooms, they spent the afternoon at the Quidditch pitch playing games. Draco offered to take Hermione for a ride on his broom, which she readily declined, admitting her fear of moving at extreme speeds at high elevations.  
  
Hermione chucked balls up into the air while the two boys raced to catch it first before it fell. After Harry won 3 times in a row (after they had been generally even throughout the game), Draco landed huffily on the ground and sneered.  
  
"He's cheating, I won't play with a cheater!" he announced, dismounting from his broom and stomping off to Hagrid's cabin.  
  
Harry landed next to Hermione and the two followed their patient back. "I thought girls were bad..." Harry muttered.  
  
"Watch it, Harry," Hermione said mock threateningly and continued back to the cabin.


End file.
